Anthea Pollock

As a youngster, growing up in South Africa in the seventies and eighties, I spent a lot of time in our family housekeeper’s quarters – listening to fascinating tales about her childhood years in the Transkei. I considered Ethel a second mother and thoroughly enjoyed her company – as well as the delightful company of her gregarious friends. As a result, the injustice of Apartheid burned deep in my bones and I hoped to be ‘a voice’ for oppressed folk one day as a journalist. Regrettably, I was dissuaded from doing so - in a politically charged and dangerous South Africa of the eighties. It’s taken reassessing my life purpose at fifty, to give me the courage to pursue this desire.